I mean, what is wrong with these people? Are they complete philistines?

We walk on a bit further, and I’m trying my best to catch a glimpse inside a window full of amazing-looking hats when... oh my God. Just... just look there. It’s Saks Fifth Avenue. Right there, a matter of yards away. One of the most famous department stores in the world. Floors and floors of clothes and shoes and bags... And thank God, at last, Christoph is coming to his senses, and stopping.

‘This is one of New York’s most famous landmarks,’ he’s saying, with a gesture. ‘Many New Yorkers regularly visit this magnificent place of worship – once a week or even more often. Some even make it here daily! We don’t have time to do more than have a quick look inside – hut those that are interested can always make a return trip.’

‘Is it very old?’ asks a man with a Scandinavian accent.

‘The building dates from 1879,’ says Christoph, ‘and was designed by James Renwick.’

Come on, I think impatiently, as someone else asks a question about the architecture. Come on. Who cares who designed it? Who cares about the stonework? It’s what’s inside that matters.

‘Shall we go in?’ says Christoph at last.

‘Absolutely!’ I say joyfully, and hurry off towards the entrance.

It’s only as my hand is actually on the door that I realize no-one else is with me. Where’ve they all gone? Puzzled, I look back – and the rest of the group is processing into a big stone church, outside which there’s a board reading ‘St Patrick’s Cathedral’.

Oh.

Oh, I see. When he said ‘magnificent place of worship’ he meant...

Right. Of course.

I hesitate, hand on the door, feeling torn. Oh God, maybe I should go into the cathedral. Maybe I should take in some culture and come back to Saks later.

But then – is that going to help me get to know whether I want to live in New York or not? Looking around some boring old cathedral?

Put it like this: how many millions of cathedrals do we have in England? And how many branches of Saks Fifth Avenue?

‘Are you going in?’ says an impatient voice behind me.

‘Yes!’ I say, coming to a decision. ‘Absolutely. I’m going in.’

I push my way through the heavy wooden doors and into the store, feeling almost sick with anticipation. I haven’t felt this excited since Octagon relaunched their designer floor and I was invited to the cardholders’ champagne reception.

I mean, visiting any shop for the first time is exciting. There’s always that buzz as you push open the door; that hope; that belief – that this is going to be the shop of all shops, which will bring you everything you ever wanted, at magically low prices. But this is a thousand times better. A million times. Because this isn’t just any old shop, is it? This is a world-famous shop. I’m actually here. I’m in Saks on Fifth Avenue in New York. As I walk slowly into the store – forcing myself not to rush – I feel as though I’m setting off for a date with a Hollywood movie star.

I wander through the perfumery, gazing around at the elegant art deco panelling; the high, airy ceilings; the foliage everywhere. God, this has to be one of the most beautiful shops I’ve ever been in. At the back are old-fashioned lifts which make you feel you’re in a film with Cary Grant, and on a little table is a pile of store directories. I pick one up, just to get my bearings... and I don’t quite believe it. There are ten floors to this store.

Ten floors. Ten.

I stare at the list, transfixed. I feel like a child trying to choose a sweetie in a chocolate factory. Where am I going to start? How should I do this? Start at the top? Start at the bottom? Oh God, all these names, jumping out at me, calling to me. Anna Sui. Calvin Klein. Kate Spade. Kiehl’s. I think I’m going to hyperventilate.

‘Excuse me?’ A voice interrupts my thoughts and I turn to see a girl with a Saks name badge smiling at me. ‘Can I help you?’

‘Um... yes,’ I say, still staring at the directory. ‘I’m just trying to work out where to start, really.’

‘Were you interested in clothes? Or accessories? Or shoes?’

‘Yes,’ I say dazedly. ‘Both. All. Everything. Erm... a bag,’ I say randomly. ‘I need a new bag!’

Which is true. I mean, I’ve brought bags with me – but you can always do with a new bag, can’t you? Plus, I’ve been noticing that all the women in Manhattan seem to have very smart designer bags – so this is a very good way of acclimatizing myself to the city.

The girl gives me a friendly smile.

‘Bags and accessories are through there,’ she says, pointing. ‘You might want to start there and work your way up?’

‘Yes,’ I say. ‘That’s what I’ll do. Thanks!’